


A Little Sugar, Snow and a Place to Call Home

by makingitwork



Series: Who Can Take the Sunshine [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fae Stiles, Fairy Stiles, Fluff, Grandpa Sheriff, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Protective Derek, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 04:52:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13990863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makingitwork/pseuds/makingitwork
Summary: Derek's daughter experiences her first snow day due to Derek's fairy boyfriend: Stiles.And Derek meets his boyfriend's father for the first time.*gulp*





	A Little Sugar, Snow and a Place to Call Home

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> This is for everyone who wanted Derek meeting the Sheriff, I hope I did it credit because I love you and I want you to be as happy as you make me with your comments!!
> 
> xx

Derek has to stop arguing with Stiles.

It's just- his boyfriend, yes  _boyfriend_ for the past seven months, is just so incredibly stubborn that Derek can't help but push his buttons.

This, though?

Derek didn't expect this.

There's fifteen inches of snow covering Beacon Hills, with more snow falling and the skies are heavy with fluffy, snow-filled clouds promising more to come. 

It had all started so innocently. 

"Come on,  _hurricanes?_ Stiles, last week I saw you open a bag of poprocks with a knife." Derek teases, turning into the road that will drive up towards the school.

"I'm not kidding, Derek." The fairy replied, lips downturned; annoyed. "Fae are strong. Look, it's the second week of winter, can't you see the changes of the season? The leave-less trees? The condensation that sticks a touch harder to the glass in the morning? The chillier wind? Do you think that happens on its own?"

The were-wolf sighed. "I'm not saying you're not responsible for it all, but they're very... _mild_ changes, that's all."

"Mild?" Stiles repeated, deceptively calm. 

Derek swallowed. "No, not-"

"Mild. Right of course, I see." He was starting to look gleeful now, and Derek moaned:

"Stiles, no-"

"I think it's about time we have some snow here in Beacon Hills, things have been far too temperate since I've been around. Yup," he thrums his fingers excitedly against the dashboard "get ready for the earliest Christmas Beacon Hills has ever seen!"

Derek rolled his eyes, but he was inwardly worried. "You sound like an evil Father Christmas." He pulled up towards the school, he was early and the rush of other parents hadn't started yet. "Please don't Stiles, people won't come to the gym and it's a slow season as it is. And school will be cancelled and Izzy will miss her nativity play."

Stiles puffs out a reluctant sigh. "We have done a lot of method work on her sheep role."

"She's gonna be the best sheep." Derek agrees "but she can't be if there's no school. And to have school we need no snow."

Stiles looks thoughtful, instead of happy-to-agree-with-everything Derek's saying. 

"Think about it though, I'm a fae," Stiles is speaking, but Derek is sure the plan is still formulating in his head. "Three days of snow that miraculously disappears due to a heavy rain and warm wind one night? Is that anything weird?" Derek opens his mouth to object but Stiles is still talking "We could play in the snow, my dad could get some time off work- yeah, this whole town needs a three day nap. Like you after you do sessions with Aiden at the gym." He bobs his head "But most importantly, it'll show you how powerful I am."

"I do think you're powerful-"

"LA LA LA," Stiles sings loudly over him "Because fae, Derek, they're generally good creatures but get one angry and you've got hurricanes, storms, tsunamis, I mean," he shakes his head "it can be so devastating, heartbreaking, insanely awe-inspiring, but never, not ever  _mild."_

Derek sighs. 

But Stiles reaches over and kisses him, and Isabella is in the car and Derek doesn't really have the heart to be mad. He listens to her chat happily about her day, her hair in a complicated braid that goes around the top of her head like a band, because Stiles does her hair in the mornings now. Stiles is uncharacteristically silent the ride home, no doubt concocting evil plans.

They don't tell Isabella about the snow, because Stiles wants to see the look on her face.

So, it is with some degree of hesitancy, that Derek follows Stiles out into the garden at just before midnight. It's dark, and a little chilly considering it is winter, but it's so...normal. Lovely and normal and Derek's going to miss the consistency. He should learn to keep his mouth shut. He glances up at the sky, and frowns. 

He can't see any stars.

He realises then, with a bit of a jerk, that ever since he drove Stiles to Beacon Hills all those months ago he'd seen stars every night, clear as day. Beautiful and burning and distant. Has Stiles been...he looks at his boyfriend, who's noticed his stare and blushing.

"Alright, shut up about it," Stiles mutters, cracking his knuckles and rolling his neck. "Your old fae wasn't powerful enough to move clouds, and when you mentioned you liked to star gaze, I dunno," he shrugs "it's not a big deal."

Derek kisses the underside of his jaw, and he has to lean down to do so. "It's the biggest deal." He whisper. He yearns suddenly for the chance to do something utterly romantic for Stiles. Stiles shivers as Derek's stubble brushes his collar. They turn into an embrace and their lips meet knowingly, softly in the darkness. Before Stiles pulls away.

"Uh-uh, bad wolf. Heh, bad wolf. But no! No distractions! Anyway, say goodbye to your stars for a few nights! Get ready!"

Derek steps back obligingly, raising his hands in surrender and Stiles takes a breath of cold night air. Derek watches, interested. It's rare he gets to see Stiles do magic this big, and he's curious to see how it works. His wings flicker into view and the gold shimmers against his obnoxiously yellow plaid shirt. They flit once, twice, and they're a whirring gold that lifts Stiles a few metres into the air. Derek watches; mesmerised.

He's so beautiful, haloed in gold and glitter specks, his wings beating fast and his eyes cocky and curious.

The air turns colder, and but Derek doesn't shiver, he is a wolf after all. But Stiles is a fairy, and Stiles can  _move clouds_ and it's absurd and so amazing that Derek just stares. 

A snowflake touches Derek's arm and stays solid for a moment, before turning into a crystal droplet and suddenly it's snowing, snowing hard. Stiles looks like he's straining though, grunting a little, and Derek watches warily. The ground is dry, thoroughly prepped for the snow to stick and Derek wonders when Stiles actually began planning this. The clouds are heavy and the wind is icy and the snow is falling harder and harder, it's catching on the tree branches and the rooftop, leaving specks of white.

"Stiles?" Derek calls, somewhat softy but concernedly. "Are you alright?"

"I uh-" Stiles frowns, and his gold dims a little, it's disconcerting. He pants, before he snaps his fingers. "Shit. I didn't have enough sugar for this-" and he suddenly drops out of the sky, like a rock, wings disappearing and Derek catches him with an oomf in his arms.

"Stiles!" He yells, alarmed, and Stiles murmurs something and touches his cheek. 

"Dn't worry," he slurs "I forgot about the rain, up top- gotta keep it raining way up there. Man, snow is so compl'cated." He's nestled in in the crook of Derek's elbow, and Derek's heart starts beating again. 

"You scared me," Derek muttered, not entirely convinced the threat is gone. He cocoons Stiles into his chest and lifts him gently. "Is your magic quite done?"

"Sh'ld work," manages the shivering lump, and Derek frowns, taking them both inside. He takes Stiles up to bed and lays him down gently, stroking a thumb over his forehead. 

"I'm going to get some hot chocolate," he says softly, because Stiles' skin is cold to the touch, like he's actively channeling winter, and Derek had noticed that a little. When they'd met it had been the end of summer, and Stiles was almost as warm as Derek himself, and then the fall had come and it had been so mil- temperate. Lovely. And so had Stiles. And now he's a little chilled to the touch, a nice contrast to Derek's consistent overheating. He tugs the blanket over Stiles, who looks up at him sleepily. 

"Love you, Sourwolf," Stiles murmurs, pushing a finger into the crease between his boyfriend's eyebrows.

Derek bats his hands away with an eye roll and pads downstairs. 

The house is silent, but outside the snow is still falling rapidly, it's starting to clump and pile up on the corner steps of the porch. Derek turns the kettle on, spooning heaps of chocolate mix and sugar into a large mug that he doesn't remember buying. It reads  _Wolves are the bane of my existence! _He sighs. Shouldn't they at least be trying to blend in? 

As the water boils, he rifles through the chocolate drawer, full of all the sugary snacks. It's the hardest thing to keep full and Derek finds himself stocking up on it nearly twice a week. Stiles grabs a few handfuls every day, Isabella sneaks a chocolate bar when she thinks no ones looking, and Derek is maybe perhaps a tiny bit guilty of stealing a smarties tube every once in a while. 

It's not stealing, anyway! Derek buys them. 

He takes tube for Stiles, the kettle clicks, and he stirs the chocolate thoughtfully. Then he adds marshmallows and whipped cream because he loves Stiles or whatever. 

It can be hard to remember that when glitter is clogging up the shower drain. 

His fairy boyfriend is sitting upright in bed when he gets back upstairs. The sheets are tangled around the lower half of his body, and his hair is every which way, half in his eyes with feathers sticking out of it. Derek realises that the pillow with the broken seam has finally burst and Stiles looks dazed and confused and completely adorable. His eyes zero in on the hot chocolate Derek is holding by his chest immediately. 

"It's for you, Stiles," Derek says slowly, as though he's talking to an idiot because he's been holding it out now and Stiles has just been sniffing it. 

Stiles pouts, and a bloom of gold swirls on his right cheek. His wings flicker once, twice, and dissipate. 

"Stiles," Derek repeats, firmer this time, and sets the hot chocolate down. Stiles tries to twist and follow the sight of it, but Derek's hands are firm on his shoulders. "Are you alright?" His heart flutters a little, as Stiles nuzzles his fingers, and manages a shaky nod. 

"Low on...uh..." he whispers, voice parched.

Derek helps him drink the hot chocolate. His hand nestled on the back of Stiles' head so he can tilt it accordingly, and his other one holding the mug. He doesn't stop until it's all drained, and Stiles is chewing the marshmallows. It's incredibly soothing for his wolf, to be able to take care of Stiles in this way. It satisfies a primal urge, not to mention how soft and pliant and appealing Stiles is. "Is that better?" He asks, and Stiles nods. He looks better, eyes returning to their warmer glow, and coming back to himself. The snow is beginning to pile up on the window cills. "I have smarties?" He shakes the tube and Stiles launches at him. Derek laughs, and Stiles lies on top of him, chewing smarties with loud bites _._

"You're kinda perfect, aren't you?" He murmurs, looking up at Derek with knowing eyes. 

"Or you're just a really big idiot."

Stiles tips his head. "That could be true too. But you're gonna love me tomorrow."

Derek steals a smartie, and kisses Stiles' nose. "That'll always be true." 

It's intense, intimate and maybe a little too forward for less than a years worth of dating, but the smile he gets in response is enough to quell any anxiety Derek has. 

 

Isabella  _screams_ in the morning, racing down the stairs, nearly tripping over in her haste. "It's snowing!' She hollers, and Derek and Stiles wince. Derek turns from the window, away from the fifteen inches of snow, to see his daughter, all wrapped up and ready. "We have to go and play! Now! Go put on your hats and gloves!" Stiles grins and salutes her, immediately wrapping himself up.

Derek's a little slower "Let's have breakfast first-" He tries, but Isabella marches over and looks right up at him in outrage.

"Daddy," she says, very slowly like she's explaining something to a baby. "Do you know what snow is?"

He tries not to laugh, he can hear Stiles snickering as he pulls on his boots. "Yes, Izzy. I do."

"Do you know what a happy childhood is?"

Derek rolls his eyes "yes," he sighs. 

"Do you want me to have one? And do you understand how the two of them link?"

He scoops her up and plants a kiss onto her cheek but she does not look amused. "Fine, fine," he grumbles "I spoil you. Help daddy find his boots." She sighs, sounding very put out but diligently helps him and soon, they're opening the front door. 

Derek understands it now.

Not telling Isabella the plan because- because-

this is something else. 

It's like something out of a movie, the clean white sheet of uneven snow, all powder like and soft and covering everything. The dark trees are awash with white and the flakes are sparkling in the morning sun. It's still snowing, ever so lightly, and its chill enough to keep it from melting. The forest is tall and white and majestic, the remaining brown leaves cloaked shades of ivory and cotton. 

Isabella takes a step forward, and there's a satisfying  _crunch_ and it leaves a perfectly porcelain footprint. She examines it carefully, before retracing her step back to the porch. 

"Stiles," she says "did you do this?"

"Sure did, sweet thang," he murmurs, patting her hat covered head. 

She hugs his knees "thank you, thank you, thank you!" And then she's poking Derek and yelling "Daddy, chase me!" And running out into the snow. Each step sinks her into it, and it comes up high on her tiny legs, but Derek trudges through it, chasing her happily, and Stiles laughs, making snowballs and throwing them. They spend the entire morning having snowball fights and making an army of snowmen- snow _women_ with twigs for hair, and making snow angels. 

Isabella manages a full shift, something she's a little shaky on, and Stiles coos over the tiny wolf before spraying snow onto her. 

Is this his life now? Is this Derek's life now? To be this happy and this full of warmth? To see Stiles in his adorable beanie and black jacket, and Isabella with her earmuffs and bright eyes?

Stiles is charming the snow because by the time Derek manages to wrangle them both inside for a very late breakfast, the snow is still perfectly preserved. Their footprints gone, snow angels faded and only the snowwomen still present, frozen in their elegant forms. There are no muddy spots or breaks, it's thick and white and fluffy, like no one has stepped foot outside yet. 

Stiles' phone rings during breakfast, and he answers it whilst wiping sugar from the side of Izzy's mouth with his saliva-moistened thumb. 

Derek loves that about him. How easily he had taken to her. It had helped that Izzy loved Stiles, but Stiles had an affinity for parenting even if he didn't quite know it. He didn't patronise her, he reflexively protected her, and he seemed to love her almost as much as Derek did, which the werewolf hadn't thought possible for a long time. 

"What's up, daddio?" Stiles answers, having checked the caller ID, and his voice is uplifting and chirpy. 

Derek can hear the Sheriff on the other side of the phone. " _Stiles, everywhere's closed. Tell me you had a good reason."_

"The best reason!" Stiles squawks "Derek told me I was mild!"

Derek thinks he can hear the eye roll, as the Sheriff begins lecturing Stiles on the uses of his powers. It sounds like a familiar lecture, and Derek can just imagine the Sheriff dealing with a teenage Stiles who wanted to make every day a snow day to miss school. 

"Dad!" Stiles flails, and Isabella jerks a little at the motion. "Just had a brilliant idea! Why don't I bring Derek and Bells over? You can meet them!" He winks at Isabella who nods eagerly, curious to meet the reason why Stiles doesn't appear to be at their house all the time. He looks over at Derek and gives him a thumbs up. 

The Sheriff chuckles  _"That actually sounds like a great idea, son."_

Derek thinks he goes as white as the snow. 

_"Be careful getting over here though. Drive slow."_

"I will, dad," Stiles brushes him off "Do you forget that I can control the snow? That I can part the ice for my Jeep? Because sometimes I feel like you forget that." They say their goodbyes, and Isabella is squealing. She begins collecting all her barbie dolls to show the Sheriff, and Stiles kicks his feet up, looking at Derek smugly. "You look a little...completely petrified?" 

"Stiles." Derek frowns "he's your dad- you didn't give me any warning!"

"You're getting more warning than I got from Laura," Stiles reminds, laughing "don't worry! He's gonna love you!"

"Really?"

"Yes!" Stiles pauses, as though really looking at Derek and then he winces "Um...maybe don't wear leather though. I mean, I dig the bad boy vibe but he might not like that."

Derek tugs off his leather jacket, getting his woollen coat and Stiles nods enthusiastically. "Yeah that's great, and tell him you only have good intentions and stuff like that." Derek stared at him blankly.

"I do only have good intentions, Stiles."

"Yeah! Just like that. Totally believable." Stiles whined as he was whacked in the back of the head, appraising Derek thoughtfully. Derek thinks maybe Stiles sees the nerves, because his face softens, and he moves his hand to cup Derek's face. "Hey," he whispers "just be you. My dad's gonna love you, who wouldn't?"

A lot of people, Derek thinks, as Stiles drives them over.

There's no other car on the road and they get a few judgemental looks from behind curtains, but Stiles drives slowly, parting the snow just before the wheels with every motion of the jeep. The entire town looks like the front of a Christmas card, and there are a few other children out playing and Isabella calls and waves at them happily. She's clutching all her barbies to her chest and asking if the town is going to look like this forever.

It's not that Derek doesn't trust Stiles, it's just that Derek's not excellent with parents in general. He knows how he looks, big and buff and intimidating, and try as he might his shyness seems to come off as arrogance. Jennifer's folks had despised him, and even though most of the parents on the PTA seem to like him, they're mostly moms who either find him inappropriately attractive, or women who want to coddle him. 

Besides, this is different from all of those occasions. Because he doesn't even know the Sheriff, but he still respects him hugely. He's still the Sheriff of their town, even though there had been some talk a few years back of him retiring. He lost his wife but stayed strong and had raised Stiles, a fae, all on his own. He's a tough but fair man, Derek knows that. His mother had known him, and she had only ever good things to say. 

He's been to Stiles' house- or rather, the Sheriff's- house before, when Stiles had needed a lift, or Derek had dropped him back. The Sheriff had always been on shift, or asleep all of those times though, and it's scary to see the police cruiser parked in the driveway as Stiles parks alongside it.

"Are we here?" Isabella asks eagerly, and Derek nods, a frog in his throat. 

It's a humble house, not huge, but big enough and well kept, just like all the other houses on this street. Derek's never been inside though, so he isn't sure what to expect. 

Stiles unlocks the door with nimble fingers, shaking the snow off the handle. "Dad!" he calls "we're here!"

It's very...normal. Derek doesn't know if he was expecting some weird fae designs, but everything is normal and human. There's fish in the oven and soccer on the television. It's clean and there's maybe a little too much furniture for the size, but it makes the place look homey. There's a set of glass doors on the rear of the living room that go out to a small grassy garden, currently embossed with snow. 

The Sheriff appears from around the corner and Derek is startled.

He's never been this close to him before, and he honestly hadn't expected any resemblance to Stiles, given that the Sheriff took him in, but there is. The way the Sheriff smiles, the quirk of his mouth, Stiles gets that entirely from him. The way his eyes flicker around the room, as though categorising everything in it and its potential for danger is the same. There are crinkles around the Sheriff's eyes that suggest he's seen a little too much in this lifetime, but there are laughter lines around his mouth that say he's enjoyed every minute of it. 

"Stiles," he says, and he sounds dismissive, but Stiles claps him on the shoulder and the Sheriff squeezes his elbow tightly and Derek can see the bond there. Unbreakable, probably unknowable too. He's in normal clothes, which throws Derek too, he'd always pictured him in the Sheriff's uniform. "And this is Derek," his eyes take Derek in, during one sweeping motion. Derek offers his hand, and the Sheriff takes it tightly. Derek tries not to freak out. Is that just his handshake? It's strong for a human, but he is a cop- is he trying to be intimidating? Does that mean he doesn't like him- "And this is Bells, huh?" He kneels in front of her, instantly besotted. 

"Hello," she beams charmingly "are you Stiles' dad?"

"I sure am," he nods "and it's a very tough job too."

She giggles, tiny fingers struggling to collect all her dolls from her pockets. "Does this mean you're my grandad?"

There's a moment of silence from the three adults in the room, and Stiles looks up worriedly from the kitchen, and Derek meets both set of Stilinski eyes and before he knows what he's doing, he's nodding. 

"Yes it does," he manages, and Isabella nods matter-of-factly, taking the Sheriff's finger and leading him to the sofa where she sits him down and starts explaining her dolls. 

Derek follows Stiles' beckoning into the kitchen. "You didn't have to do that," Stiles whispers, and Derek shakes his head. 

"I wanted to. He is. Or he will be, one day."

Stiles' lips twitch as he fights to hide his smile "you big doofus," he whispers, elbowing Derek's stomach. 

 

Derek spends the rest of the afternoon trying to make a good impression, he's tried talking sports, even branching out to tennis which he knows absolutely nothing about. He's tried talking about local crime, which made him sound like an absolute creep, and he's attempted fashion. If Stiles' blatant laughing from the kitchen is any indication, he's not doing very well. He's just about to start talking about NASA's recent space proposal when the Sheriff clears his throat. 

"How old is she?" He asks, as Isabella uses the Sheriff's knee as a slide for her barbies. 

"Uh- sh-she's five, Sir."

"Huh," The Sheriff looks fond "she's very energetic."

"Yeah she," he laughs a little "keeps me awake."

He nods, agreeing "Stiles was like that. Hyper-energetic. He'd never stop moving, not even when he was asleep. Some mornings, I'd have to break through a complex network of vines to get to him."

"Don't be blaming baby-Stiles for your problems, Daddio," Stiles calls from the kitchen, where he's brandishing a spatula to make something undoubtedly too sweet. 

The Sheriff huffs a laugh, and Derek feels a kinship with him. Reluctant laughter at Stiles' antics is something he's becoming very familiar with. The Sheriff brushes some of Isabella's hair from her eyes. "She a little...obsessive over her dolls?"

Derek frowns, nodding "Yeah, is that...is that a problem?" He'd never thought about it before, and now is mind is racing with possibilities.

"Not at all," he soothes "Stiles was like that when he was young, but it was with toy trucks." He looks thoughtful "He didn't have many friends when he was young, because he was different, and I think it was an outlet. Does Bells have many friends?"

Derek shakes his head, as his daughter continues chatting animatedly to herself. "No, I don't think so. She's very independent at school and we're...we're very close, Sir."

"It was just the same with me and Stiles," he scratches his chin thoughtfully "and call me John. Are there any other supernatural children in the area? People she could be open with? It might help. When Stiles met Scott he...he blossomed, really." Derek thinks about that. He can't imagine having grown up without his abundance of cousins and family, and there were a few known wolves who'd lived a few doors down. Maybe he should have a look for some creatures around his daughter's age. He nestles the advice away, and his entire being thrums with the realisation that he now has someone to talk to about this stuff. Someone to help with parenting. Laura's fantastic but she doesn't have any kids, and Uncle Peter is...well, he's Uncle Peter.

"Scott is my brother for life." Stiles announces, gliding into the living room with a weird looking salad on a plate. He presents it to his dad who shrivels away in disgust. "Hey! It's vegetables! You gotta eat vegetables!" 

Isabella stands and plucks a cucumber off the plate smartly, popping it into her mouth. 

Stiles looks flummoxed for a moment. "See that? Bells is setting the example!" He waves the salad as though that will make it more enticing. "C'mon, don't be scared of a little greeeeennnn."

Isabella is standing and plucking another piece of cucumber, "are you scared, Grandpa? It's just salad. Rabbits eat it."

Something warm burns brighter in John's eyes at the word 'grandpa', like maybe he thought he wouldn't have anymore family. And Derek realises then, why he hasn't been getting any attention this afternoon. It's Izzy. It's always been Izzy. He steers the conversation further towards her and the two men find themselves talking much more fluently. 

Stiles plucks her up and takes her outside to play, and that's when John's focus is entirely on him. 

"You seem like a good kid," he says honestly "with a beautiful daughter. Stiles can be...a lot to handle, but you know that. If you continue, I'm assuming that you can handle it. I will not have my little boy with a broken heart. Someone will have to pay, do you understand that, Derek?"

"I do, Sir." He vows, this was the sort of thing he was expecting. This he can do. Assert his love. "I would never do anything to hurt him and I would go out of my way to protect him. He feels...right. Like he's what I've always been missing and I'd be a fool to let him go. At least, that's what my sister tells me."

John smiles, nodding. "Alright then. Welcome to the family." He shakes his head, laughing "god, if I could go back twenty years never would I have believed in fae and werewolves and kanima. There's so much to life, isn't there?"

"How did you find out Stiles was a fae?" He asks, curiously. He doesn't want to pry, but John is forthcoming with the information. 

"Well, when he started doing things I could no longer explain as coincidences, I knew something wasn't right. I didn't want him to be taken away so I took him to an old friend of mine- Alan Deaton. He knew a fair few things, he used to be a pack emissary or something like that. I don't think I could have coped half as well without him." He looks out the window and Derek follows his gaze to see Isabella and Stiles catching snowflakes on their tongues. They look slightly insane, spinning in ever-faster circles, tongues out, faces turned up towards the sky. "It's been a learning curve."

"Wouldn't trade it though," Derek murmured, eyes on Izzy. 

John looked at him, respect written in the lines on his face. "Not for anything." He agrees. 

 

After dinner, John offers to read Bells a story. She seems hesitant at first, caught between wanting to shift and play in the snow with Derek or have Stiles make her another tiara made of ice, but in the end, after being promised a day of tobogganing tomorrow, she curls onto his knee and is enraptured. John's voice as he reads the words is a deeper baritone than she's used to, it makes the story rumble true and exciting, but soothing at the same time. Her mouth hangs open and she goes from staring at the book to staring at John. 

"Are you a fairy too, grandpa?" She asks, poking John's cheek as if she expects him to light up, and he laughs, shaking his head. 

"No, sweetheart." He chuckles, kissing her hair. 

"You're something magical." She insists, and he continues reading. 

"See that?" Stiles knocks Derek with his hip as he comes to stand beside him in the doorway, watching them. "A little faith, trust and pixie dust."

The werewolf snorts, arm wrapping firmly around Stiles' waist. "I think you mean, a little sugar, snow, and a place to call home."

Stiles gives him an appraisingly look, simultaneously surprised and delighted. "Well what d'ya know," he grins "I like that much better." 

**Author's Note:**

> Pheww!! Updating frenzy over here, because your comments actually give me life. 
> 
> Yes, I'm talking to you. YOU. I see you there, scrolling, with your pretty hair and pretty face.
> 
> YOU make me happy and YOU are wonderful, and I really love the motivation I'm getting with this series and I wanna keep going. 
> 
> I'm into some jealous Derek? Anyone else? Any ideas for scenarios? 
> 
> Okay, lean in closer reader, yeah, you, the one I was talking to earlier. Come closer, closer, come on, lean in to the screen. I love you and you rock and me and you are gonna ride and Sterek train together.
> 
> STAY AS WONDERFUL AS YOU ALWAYS ARE TO ME 
> 
> MWAH MWAH MWAH X


End file.
